


well suited

by seb



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb/pseuds/seb
Summary: Genesis smiles against the glass but does not grace him with a laugh.Angeal’s mission, then, continues into the night.--Angeal and Genesis attend the annual ShinRa banquet.
Relationships: Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos
Kudos: 28





	well suited

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [Vie's art](https://twitter.com/hollowkuraudo/status/1302653627127955458?s=20) for some kind of context into this fluff I wrote for him.

“He has all of ShinRa in his pocket,” Genesis spits, shaking his head. “And he dresses like  _ that _ ?” 

Angeal hums, hand rubbing the small of Genesis’ back with a brow raised. “It’s sad, isn’t it?” Idly, he swirls the champagne in his glass. He has little intention of drinking it, but the night is young. “President of the most powerful company in the world and this is how he attends his own banquet.” A pause as Genesis makes a disgusted noise in agreement. “When he could be looking like you.”

At that, Genesis tosses a glance over his shoulder; something a little perplexed, a little touched. “Sap,” he says, shoving an elbow between Angeal’s ribs. Angeal laughs, jostling the coat hung over his forearm as he wraps his arm more solidly around Genesis’ waist.

Despite his demeanor, Genesis relaxes into Angeal’s hold, slotting perfectly into his side. Angeal glances down at his outfit, immaculate as always, then at his own. There are some wrinkles in his shirt and his matching tie is askew, but otherwise, he looks fine. Decent enough not to get shit-talked at the annual banquet.

“His son looks no better,” Angeal says with a tsk. Genesis brings his flute to his lips with a sigh. “Maybe it runs in the family.” Genesis smiles against the glass but does not grace him with a laugh.

Angeal’s mission, then, continues into the night.

Somehow, he convinces Genesis to join him in a dance. They’re off to the side, amongst the tables, glasses forgotten next to Angeal’s coat. For once, Genesis isn’t looking over his shoulder; isn’t waiting for the world to close in around him. He rests his cheek on Angeal’s chest and mumbles about Sephiroth’s fly-aways, fingers intertwined as they sway in the shadows. Angeal gets a kick out of nudging the ring on his finger and Genesis’ two inebriated left feet.

“I don’t know,” Angeal murmurs, dipping his fingers under the back of Genesis’ waistcoat. “I think he looks a bit more put-together than usual.” Genesis looks up at him in surprise. “Maybe it’s the shirt.”

There’s a snicker as Genesis plants his face back into Angeal’s shirt. His belly does a swoop, warmth that has nothing to do with the champagne he ended up downing raising goosebumps on his arms. Mission accomplished, and all that. Genesis stands up straight and untangles himself from Angeal’s arms, staggering over to the table with their belongings. He grabs his own flute, then passes Angeal his before taking another sip of it. 

Angeal lays his coat over his forearm again, turning to speak, when Genesis grabs him by the tie and pulls him down, ghosting a breath of hesitation over his lips before diving in to kiss him. Angeal relaxes into the hold immediately, putting a hand on his shoulder and angling his head until their lips slot perfectly together.  _ Made for each other _ , he thinks, brushing his thumb over Genesis’ pulsepoint. 

Genesis shivers, eyes still closed as he pulls away just to lean up and nuzzle the side of Angeal’s neck. “Take me home,” he says, a demand, addled with affection. So Angeal does.

It’s a stumble out of the venue and a disoriented walk through metal hallways and the crisp air of a late night. Angeal can at least walk without hitting his head off a lamppost, which he considers a win. Genesis leans heavily into his side but would never admit needing the assistance.

By the time they reach Angeal’s ShinRa-appointed (albeit pretty nifty) apartment, Genesis is dead silent and glued to Angeal’s side. He’s warm through the copious amount of clothing probably plastered to his body by now as he kicks off his shoes by the door.

Angeal leaves him for a second to hang up his coat and hears a whine. Genesis is rubbing his eyes where he’s leaned against the wall by the door, waistcoat half undone. “Come back,” he says petulantly. 

It’s impossible not to give into him. Cooing, Angeal takes Genesis into his arms, smoothing his hair back and kissing his forehead. “I’m here, darling.”

Genesis digs his face into Angeal’s shirt and lets himself be calmed. They stand there, swaying slightly in place, arms wrapped around each other until they’re enveloped in heat and the smell of champagne on their breaths. 

“Have you had water?” Angeal asks, rubbing Genesis’ back. His waistcoat comes loose under the attention and falls from those strong shoulders, his collar picking up at the ends where Angeal fondles it. When he doesn’t get a response, he works his hands through Genesis’ tie to undo it. “Maybe we should get you something to snack on, too.”

“I’m fine,” Genesis says, looking away. His cheeks are hot, hands digging into Angeal’s hips. 

“You won’t be tomorrow,” Angeal says simply. “You don’t hold your alcohol very well.” He pulls the tie away from Genesis’ neck and drops it somewhere on the couch to deal with tomorrow. Then he shuffles them towards the couch and pushes Genesis gently towards the arm until he sits on it. “Stay here.”

Knowing Genesis is the last person to comply with an order, he makes his trip to the kitchen as quick as possible. A glass of water and a breakfast bar will have to suffice. 

Surprisingly, when he returns, Genesis is in the same spot, though his shirt is unbuttoned and open. Angeal walks up beside him and is immediately grabbed onto. Genesis grabs him by the belt loops and pulls him in close, breaths long and heavy.

“Drink,” Angeal says, holding the glass to his lips. Genesis tips his head back and does as he’s told, yanking at a loop when he’s had enough. The breakfast bar gets torn open and pressed into Genesis’ hand next as Angeal sips the rest of the water. They drink and eat little by little until Angeal has deemed them taken care of and rubs shapes on Genesis’ thigh. “Let’s get to bed.”

The stumble to their room is more coordinated than their walk prior, and it fills Angeal with a sense of pride. Genesis sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his eyes as Angeal peels out of his clothes and helps Genesis out of his own. He lays them over a chair to worry about later— for now, the man in his arms demands his attention.

It doesn’t take much coaxing to get them both under the covers, nor does Genesis shy away from burying himself in Angeal’s arms. The latter hums, stroking down his side. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Thank you,” Genesis says, nothing but a sleepy muddle of words into Angeal’s collarbone. “For taking care of me.”

“You’d do the same for me,” Angeal replies, kissing the top of his head.

“I wouldn’t,” Genesis says very quickly. Angeal can’t help but laugh, and gets pinched for his trouble. “ _ You’re _ the sap.”

“You love me,” Angeal teases.

Genesis is silent. Then:

“ _ Your desire is the bringer of life. The gift of the goddess _ .”

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over at bareuniverse on Twitter! Thanks for reading!


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